


The Screams all Sound the Same

by hidinginmybones



Series: can you come a little closer? [1]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Glitter, Granjolras, Greek God Enjolras, I am warning you, M/M, Multi, Political Theory, Politics, Poor Combeferre, Pride, Rainbows, absolutes, debate sex, debates, les amis in college!, mentions of alcohol use, mentions of drug use, modern college au, so many politics, there are politics, thomas hobbes - Freeform, use and abuse of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-22
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2017-11-26 10:36:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 20,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/649642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidinginmybones/pseuds/hidinginmybones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire begins his last year of University thinking that his second year Political Theory class will be a breeze. He doesn't anticipate being in class with the most perfect, albeit the most outspoken, human being on the planet but that just makes his class that much more fun. Or, in which Enjolras and Grantaire debate constantly and slowly begin to realize that they cannot exist without the other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hunting Apollo

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katofantastic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katofantastic/gifts).



> I blame K entirely for the existence of this fic. If it hadn't been for her, it would have taken me a thousand years to actually start it, instead I wrote this in its entirety in two hours. Title belongs to Of Monsters and Men's _Little Talks_. This will be multi-chaptered and hopefully I can get it finished quickly. Thanks for reading!

Grantaire is almost late for class. He has no idea in hell where the fucking R-Wing is because they’d just finished building it over the summer. Since he’d gotten lost, the only seat still available is right up at the front of the room. He groans inwardly, being at the front of the class means that he can’t screw around and not pay attention. He has no idea why he’d taken this fucking second year class anyway, since it’s not even something he needs to graduate. He’d just thought that since it was a Political Theory class, he’d be able to pad his marks a bit. He still thinks he’ll be able to do so since Classics and Political Theory often use the same texts. He’s graduating this year and needs to pull his marks up just a little if he plans to get into a Grad school, an idea he’s been toying with for the past year. He’ll need to apply by January and by then he’ll have completed this class and hopefully gotten the marks he needs. 

He settles into his seat and splays out his notebook and an assortment of pens. He glances quickly over to get a look at his neighbour and his breath catches in his throat. Beside him, he swears, is Apollo. He has golden curls that brush his ears, piercing blue eyes stare straight ahead with muscled arms sheathed in a red jacket. He looks strong, confident and serious. A slight frown plays about his brow and he has a stubborn set to his mouth. These things don’t prevent Grantaire from noticing the gentleness of his features, nor the slight flush of his lips. Suddenly, Grantaire wants to do something to make this man smile. His blond neighbour is beautiful, he has a face as lovely as any woman’s and an almost otherworldly quality. In short, Grantaire has no idea how it is that he’s supposed to pay attention while in such close proximity to such a gorgeous being. Grantaire wants to stare all day and drink in this god, possibly even fall at his feet and worship but the Professor is starting and Grantaire’s attention is unwillingly forced back to the front of the class. 

Their professor begins by introducing himself as Dr Valjean and explains their syllabus like every single other professor in the history of University has done. Finally, when he’s done explaining exactly what he expects in an essay, he turns to the texts. “Has anyone read any of these prior to this class?” Valjean asks curiously. Grantaire has, of course. You can’t make it through three years of classics without picking up Plato’s _The Apology_ or _The History of the Peloponnesian War_ but he’s not about to lift his hand and proclaim his expertise. His alluring neighbour, however, does just that. 

Their professor laughs and nods, “Of course you have, Enjolras. Okay, to those who have read some of this, I put forth this question: should we care about ancient politics?”

Grantaire rolls his eyes because the answer to this question is the most obvious fucking thing but his neighbour, the sun god, _Enjolras_ , shoots his hand into the air. Clearly, he knows all of the answers. Grantaire is beginning to think that this class is going to be far more interesting than he’d anticipated. Of course, Professor Valjean calls on the blond to answer. “Because ancient politics have great bearing on the formation of the politics we partake in today,” he states easily and Grantaire is struck by the confidence in his honey smooth voice. “Without ancient thinkers like Socrates, Hobbes or Rousseau, politics would be quite different today, or they might be the same as they had been in ancient times.” 

“Well, I’m not sure that they wouldn’t have changed at all, but you’re correct with the first part,” Valjean states, and Grantaire spots Enjolras flush in his periphery and smirks. Apparently this guy is used to being right, all of the time but Grantaire has had professor Valjean before and he knows that this professor in particular doesn’t gloss over it if a wrong answer is provided. “Ancient thinkers have made a drastic impact on current politics even though their works were unfortunately unavailable for a good part of history. Let’s talk about Greece for a moment though,” their professor continues and Grantaire half tunes him out. He’s heard all of this before and he’d much rather keep an eye on his handsome neighbour. He’s already heard about Thales and his wanting to find a common element that made up all of nature, he’s learned of the monists and their many disagreements. He knows the origin of the word philosophers (philo sophists) and so he doesn’t feel the need to copy down every single word that his professor is spouting. Instead, he watches Enjolras scribble down his notes quickly, seemingly able to not only remember all that’s being said, but also being able to write it down. Grantaire would be impressed if he weren’t so cynical. 

Grantaire does take notes that are specifically about political thought but for the most part, he just listens. Finally, professor Valjean asks them, “Do we think differently than the ancient Greeks?” 

As Grantaire has quickly come to expect, Enjolras puts his hand up to answer once more. Seemingly, he’s the only one in the class other than Grantaire that knows anything since no one else is even attempting to answer. Since he’s been given no other choice, Valjean calls on Enjolras again. He answers confidently, “I think we do. We have different priorities and social conventions, not to mention the way that technology has shaped us.” 

Valjean nods and smiles at him and Enjolras tries to hide his own smile. “Now, this is true, we do not think like them at this point in time but are we different from them?” he continues. 

For a moment, Enjolras looks confused and Grantaire feels a smirk pull at his mouth. Enjolras nods, albeit he seems unsure of his answer. “Yes...?” 

Without even lifting his hand, Grantaire feels propelled to speak out. “No,” he states plainly. 

Valjean’s eyes are drawn to him and he says, “Care to elaborate Mister...?” It doesn’t even phase him that Valjean has forgotten his name. Grantaire doesn’t remember actually going to his evening classes overly often, and certainly he hadn’t been entirely sober for those three long hours even if he had gone. 

“Grantaire,” he replies easily. “While we know much more about the world and science and which sorts of philosophy can be trusted and which strains are complete crap, we still don’t know everything about the world. We make new discoveries all the time that completely negate different ideas that were once thought to be truth.”

“But we still know so much more than they did, they worshipped Gods, believed in myths, and we’ve been affected by modern individualism...” Enjolras argues. 

“We worship gods and believe in myths, or are you going to try and tell me that the bible is factual?” Grantaire replies, leaning toward his sparring opponent with a grin on his face. Already, this is so fun. He hopes that Valjean will allow them to continue a bit longer “We may have more knowledge than they did, but since we are constantly discovering new things, we are still in the same position.”

“But-” Enjolras begins.

“Actually Enjolras, Grantaire is arguably correct. We aren’t very different from the ancient Greeks. We’re democratic, as was ancient Athens and we even still debate many of the same social justice issues. If you’d like to discuss this further, feel free to drop by my office,” Valjean states.

Grantaire turns to look at Enjolras and smiles at him and his smile on stretches wider when he sees the scowl on Enjolras’ face. From this moment, Grantaire is making it his mission to argue with Enjolras at any given moment because he’s beginning to believe that this golden god beside him will look insanely hot, hotter than he is just normally, when he’s flying off the handle in a passion. Grantaire needs to see this as soon as possible since in his mind, ‘political passion’ translates to ‘wild in bed’. He turns back to the professor though, since class is still in session and he needs to at least pretend to be paying attention to something other than the blond beside him. 

Valjean introduces their texts for the class, Sophocles’ _Antigone_ , Thucidides’ _The History of the Peloponnesian War_ , Plato’s _The Apology_ and Aristotle’s _On Politics_. All of these Grantaire has studied at length and written about so he doesn’t feel worried at all about the course. When the class finally ends, he tries to pack up quickly to catch Enjolras in the hall but by the time Grantaire gets out there, the blond has already disappeared. Grantaire is disappointed but gets over it quickly. He’ll be seeing Enjolras again next week after all. 

The rest of his week passes the same since it’s just the beginning of the semester and all of his classes are basically just introductions. He signs up for his final year seminars and tries not to get too drunk at the student pub and fails utterly, making him hung over for almost every class he attends. He knows that he’ll just have to tone it down once classes start in earnest. That doesn’t stop him from hitting the bar come Friday night with his roommate and fellow Classics major, Marius. While Marius is on a mission to find some female company, Grantaire is only there for a good time. 

As they wait for their drinks, certainly not the firsts of the night, they talk about their classes. 

“And then, Enjolras said that we are different than the ancient Greeks because we know more,” Grantaire states. He grins at Marius amusedly. “But I totally shut him down and he looked so angry, and a bit like a sexier version of a muppet when he found out he was wrong!” 

Marius’ eyes go wide and he says, “You had a debate with Enjolras in class and you’re still alive? Don’t you know how dangerous that is?” Their drinks arrive at this point and they take them and head over to a booth so as to continue their conversation. “I had intro to Politics with him and he was scary, dude. I swear, I disagreed with him once and I thought he was going to pull my soul from my body with his glare!” 

“Well it’s a good thing I was born without a soul,” Grantaire replies before laughing deeply. 

“I was on his debate team for extra credit. He’s a nazi, a genius, of course, but a nazi nonetheless,” Marius adds. 

“You mean you worked closely alongside him and didn’t tell me that your debate partner had the hotness rating of a god?” Grantaire implores. “I can’t believe you, Marius. I thought that we were friends.”

“I hadn’t noticed,” Marius replies accompanied by a shrug, in his defense. 

“Oh yes, I’d forgotten that you’re so straight you can’t even objectively ogle a man,” Grantaire replies. “You really are missing out, Marius, since Enjolras is a fucking _fine_ piece of ass,” he adds before drinking deeply from his cup. “Jesus Christ, why don’t they make these things bigger?” he asked referring to his now empty glass. 

Marius just shakes his head and drains the rest of his as well. “I’ll go get us another,” he states as he stands and makes his way back over to the bar. Grantaire just leans back against his seat as he waits. The bar is beginning to fill up so it takes Marius an inordinately long time to return. When he does, he has drinks for both of them as well as a tray full of shots. Grantaire grins at him and reaches for his drink. Marius sets everything down on the table and says, “I just saw Eponine head toward the dancefloor, I’m going to go after her,” he says with a smirk.

Grantaire just shakes his head. Eponine goes to the college attached to the University part time since she takes care of her younger brother Gavroche. She has a huge thing for Marius but he doesn’t seem to notice her feelings and continues to take her home when he doesn’t want to put forth any effort to find someone else. Grantaire feels bad for her because she’s a nice girl but what the two of them do behind Marius’ closed door is none of Grantaire’s business. 

Now he’s been abandoned with a tray of shots, no less. He thinks that he should possibly find someone to share them with since if he keeps them all to himself he won’t be able to walk, much less make it home later. It’s then that he sees a shock of blond curls moving toward him. When Enjolras gets close enough, Grantaire grabs the sleeve of his red jacket. Enjolras looks down at him, shocked, before his face hardens. 

“Enjolras,” Grantaire says smoothly. “I seem to be lacking in company and in possession of an excess of alcohol. Join me?” he asks. 

Enjolras eyes him for a moment and then takes a look at the rows of shots and nods. “I suppose I can spare a moment or two,” he states before sliding into the booth across from Grantaire. “Grantaire, right? We have Great Political Questions I together with Valjean.” It’s not a question but Grantaire still nods and pushes one of the shot glasses toward his new partner. “I haven’t seen you in any of my other Politics classes...” 

“That’s because this is my very first. You see, I’m a political virgin,” Grantaire replies with a grin. He takes his own tiny glass and lifts it toward Enjolras who lifts his own and clinks the two together before tossing it back and setting the glass back onto the table. 

“Then what is your major?” the blonde asks like it’s the most important information that they’ll exchange all evening. 

“Classics,” Grantaire replies. “I assume you’re Politics?” 

Enjolras nods, “no wonder you have an understanding of the texts. I was afraid I’d be in a class filled with brainless idiots. Even though Valjean shut me down, I still think you’re wrong.” 

Grantaire laughs because really, he doesn’t want to argue this point anymore, but he is open to others. “Whatever,” he states. “Where do you stand on the state of nature issue?” he asks as he pushes another shot glass toward Enjolras. 

The blond’s eyes light up at the question and he leans toward Grantaire, fingers barely brushing the glass. Grantaire had been right. Enjolras isn’t even in a passion yet and already he looks so good that Grantaire wants to devour him. “Hobbes is a fool,” Enjolras states to begin and Grantaire can’t help but scoff at him. “He’s a complete fool. We don’t need a state to protect us from violent death. If we were stateless, I believe that we would form communities and live peaceably together, if not intelligently.” 

Grantaire shakes his head. “How is it possible for anyone to believe that?” he asks. “Clearly, Hobbes is correct in the Leviathan. We need protection from each other. I bet the only thing stopping most of the men in here from carrying off their women is the fear of punishment for any untoward actions. The only thing stopping them from breaking into a store and just taking everything they need is because we have people that police them. It would be complete anarchy without the state and we’d both likely be dead.” He motions toward the shot glass and picks up his own. “Human beings are corrupt in nature, and without the state we would have complete anarchy.” 

Enjolras takes up his own shot glass and drinks it back then leans even closer. Grantaire feels himself heat up at their proximity. Enjolras really is unfairly attractive. He watches as Enjolras licks his lips before he begins to speak. “Are you truly such a critic? Do you have faith in nothing?” the blonde asks. “How can you not see that it is only a minor amount of people that are corrupt and over all, at our core, we want peace and equality and freedom?” 

This makes Grantaire actually laugh out loud. “You can’t be serious,” he states. “I will say that we could possibly form some sort of primitive communities but we would need them not for companionship but to protect us from other communities. We are terrified of the repercussions of being free, which is why every single human being signs the contract to belong to the state. We don’t want our freedom, we want our property, we want our houses, we want our privacy and our possessions.”

The conversation flows from there, slowly moving from the state of nature to the dimensions of the public and the private and they eventually move back to the Greeks, since inevitably everything always comes back to the Greeks. It seems that he and Enjolras disagree on basically every single point that comes up. The truth of this doesn’t surprise Grantaire. It’s obvious that Enjolras is one of those optimistic, wants to change the world type of people where Grantaire is, in no uncertain terms, not. This time, it’s Enjolras pushing one of the two final shots toward him and taking the other up into his own hands. “How can you not have been moved by the allegory of the cave?” he asks before tipping his back back once again and swallowing down the shot. Grantaire is so distracted by the movement of Enjolras’ neck as the liquid works its way down his throat that he almost forgets the question. It’s only when Enjolras stares at him blankly that Grantaire remembers that he should be answering him.

“I need a smoke,” he says instead, “I’ll be right back.”

Grantaire stands and heads toward the door, already working his cigarettes out of his pocket and sliding one into his mouth. He doesn’t notice that Enjolras has followed him until he leans up against the fence and lights up. “That’ll kill you, you know,” Enjolras states.

“Something’s got to. We all die eventually,” Grantaire replies as he blows the smoke out of his lungs. “In answer to your question, the allegory of the cave is a completely romantic notion of reality. There is no reality, we just think there is because we’re all too stupid to realize that our lives are meaningless and soon enough we’ll just be corpses rotting in the ground.”

“But the shadows on the wall are their reality, until they escape and realize how much more is out there,” Grantaire’s golden god proclaims as he moves to lean against the fence as well. “The idea is so inspiring, there’s so much more out there that we don’t know...” 

“Fuck that,” Grantaire replies. “The only thing out there is more heartache unless you stop feeling.” 

“And is that what you did? Let yourself turn to ice because you couldn’t handle the fire?” Enjolras asks and Grantaire snorts. “I think you’re just a cynic, Grantaire. You claim that you believe in nothing but everyone believes in something.” 

“I’m beginning to believe in you,” Grantaire replies honestly. “Not the same things as you, but you nonetheless.”

Enjolras’ eyes go wide and Grantaire only has a moment to see the comical look on his face before he starts laughing, almost choking on the smoke in his lungs. For a moment, Enjolras is entirely too close to him, their chests almost touching and the air between them being shared. Once again, Grantaire goes hot all over and he tosses his cigarette away even though he’s not even nearly finished it. Enjolras seems to notice as well and moves impossibly closer. It’s at that very moment, the moment that Grantaire is about to close the few millimeters of distance between them that he hears his name being shouted by someone who is far too closeby. In that instance, the moment is shattered and Enjolras is pulling away from Grantaire and revealing a very drunken fucking Marius behind him, one with an equally drunk Eponine clinging onto his arm. 

“Me and ‘Ponine are taking a cab back home, you want to share or are you staying?” He asks, slurring his words sloppily. 

Grantaire looks over toward Enjolras and shrugs. “I think I’m good, Marius,” he states. “Now get out of here, I’m busy.”

Marius concedes but not without noticing who it is that Grantaire is with and smirking at him. “Have fun, ‘Aire,” he says before leading Eponine away, toward the front of the building. 

Grantaire watches them for a moment before glancing back to Enjolras who is leaning against the fence heavily now and looking up toward the starlit sky. “I need to go,” he admits. “I never drink like this.” 

“No,” Grantaire protests, “we were having such a good conversation.” 

Enjolras smiles at him for a moment but then looks positively sick. “I came here looking for Combeferre to make sure he didn’t get too drunk to work on our debate tomorrow and instead I do exactly what I didn’t want him to do,” he says like Grantaire even cares. “I really do have to go,” he adds as he pushes himself off of the fence uneasily. Grantaire moves forward to help guide him since it really does seem like Enjolras is far too drunk to be walking anywhere on his own. Grantaire would tease him about being such a light weight, since he’d only had four shots, but he doesn’t because he’s too distracted by their proximity. 

“I’ll get you a cab, then,” Grantaire states, leading him toward the front of the building. If he’s lucky, he can still get in with Marius and Eponine. 

Enjolras, however, shakes his head and moves toward the side entrance. “I live close by, I’m just going to walk.” 

“You won’t make it anywhere by yourself, I’ll come with you,” Grantaire replies. He gets an arm around Enjolras’ waist and feels the blond lean on him heavily. 

“You’ve had just as much as me,” Enjolras replies. 

Grantaire laughs. “More, but unlike you, I make a habit of doing this regularly,” he states before lighting another cigarette. 

Enjolras hadn’t been lying, he does live close to the bar and they’re at his house within minutes. Enjolras struggles with his keys momentarily but eventually does get his door unlocked without any additional help. Once the door is open and light from the hallway is flooding out into the dark night, Enjolras turns around to face Grantaire. “Thank you for your help,” he says. “I’ll see you in class.”

Grantaire nods and utters his own goodbye before Enjolras closes the door. At this point, Grantaire heads back toward the bar to see if he can find himself a cab. He really doesn’t want to go back home because Marius and Eponine have the tendency to be loud but it’s not like he has the choice anymore, now that Enjolras has abandoned him. He just can’t believe how close he’d been to kissing the blonde, Apollo, as he’s begun to call him in his head. If only fucking Marius hadn’t interrupted them at the most inopportune moment, then perhaps Grantaire and Enjolras would be making noise of their own right now. 

Grantaire shrugs it off as he arrives back at his home, after waving down an empty cab about a block from the bar. He’ll be sharing this class with Enjolras for now at least. Hopefully he’ll have many more opportunities to get into his sun god’s pants over the course of the semester.


	2. Of Essays and Extra-curricular Activities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am using their names as first names just because I couldn't come up with anything I felt fit well enough. This is also turning out to be much longer than expected. So yay? Anyway, if there's anything any of you want to see in this, let me know, and I'll include it if it works. Thanks for reading!

Grantaire’s weekend passes in a fog of weed and booze. He doesn’t go to the bar again, instead opting to have people over to his and Marius’ apartment the night following his encounter with Enjolras. Had he any way of contacting his Apollo, Grantaire would have invited him as well. Debating with him had been the highlight of Grantaire’s week, but not even Marius knew how to get a hold of him, which made Grantaire a little sad, though he’d never admit it. 

Come Monday, Grantaire is nursing a terrible hangover caused by his weekend of excess. He has an appointment with the head of the Classics department who just so happens to be the wife of Professor Valjean. He’s dreading it because he’s not at all prepared and he’s sure that she’ll mention his presence in her husband’s class and quite possibly his run in with Enjolras. Nonetheless, Grantaire is chugging water and sitting outside her classroom, waiting for her to finish her current meeting.

Finally, the door opens and out steps a young blond girl, who smiles at Grantaire on her way by. Grantaire smiles back, just to be polite and then heads inside of the small office. He nods at his professor as he sits down across from her. Fantine Valjean smiles at him and saying, “Hello, Grantaire.”

“Hi,” he says as he sets down his things. They exchange pleasantries but then it’s time to get down to business. His head pounds and his eyes blur but getting a meeting with Fantine is hard, so Grantaire is just going to have to suffer through it. “I was wondering if I could run my essay idea by you,” he says.

“Oh?” She says, smiling at him. “I’m definitely looking forward to this.”

Grantaire nods and flips to some of his notes. “As you likely know, I’m taking your husband’s Great Political Questions class and I feel like it’s going to be fascinating,” he says smoothly. He knows that the only reason he’s going to be interested in it at all is because of Enjolras’ presence there. He honestly couldn’t care any less about the subject matter. He just knows that he’s knowledgeable about it and that he devours these books like they’re a life sustaining force, filling him with for a time when it seems like nothing else will. He sees why they matter and why they’re still studied and he knows how to act like he cares, he just doesn’t.

“Oh yes, Jean had mentioned that to me. He said that you and another student went head to head in the very first class,” she laughs. “I can’t say I’m surprised.” 

Grantaire grins because he’s certainly not surprised either, since he’s done that in pretty much every single one of his classes since he’d started post-secondary school. This one had just been particularly good because Enjolras was so passionate, even when absolutely wrong. What can he say? It’s a curse. “Anyway, I am finding myself to be quite interested in the way that classical texts have shaped modern politics. I plan to start with ancient Greece and work my way up through Just War Theory and enlightenment and anti-enlightenment thinkers...” He shakes his head a little in order to clear it, but that just causes it to ache more. He winces at the nausea that rises in his stomach and hopes that Fantine won’t notice.

Fantine’s eyebrows rise and she looks at him straight on. “That’s quite the thing to tackle. Perhaps you should think about focusing more on a few works instead of so many. You need to narrow your topic,” she suggests, “But it is a good idea and I look forward to reading it.”

Grantaire nods, agrees to maybe cut down the subject matter a little before they speak further on the matter. He makes another appointment with her and then bids her farewell. Soon, he heads out to find himself some more water and perhaps some painkillers. He would head to the pub for a beer because he knows that the best way to take care of a hangover is to drink more, but he has class in ten minutes and doubts he’d actually have time for it. He slides into his seat just before his class starts and is shocked when he sees that Enjolras is beside him. Enjolras hadn’t been in this class the week before but here he is, sitting with his back straight against his chair and his things neatly organized in front of him. Grantaire glances over at him and Enjolras looks back and grins widely when he sees that it’s Grantaire. Grantaire has no idea what he’s done to deserve such a look from Enjolras but he returns it and resolves to argue with him more, if this is the result.

He really shouldn’t be as surprised by Enjolras’ presence as he is, it is Social Justice which is yet another class that Grantaire had decided to take in order to improve his average. While Grantaire had decided to take this class in order to play the devil’s advocate and debate with people who thought that they knew everything but were actually quite clueless, he knows that Enjolras is here because he truly believes that complete equality and social justice is something that’s possible to achieve. At least now Grantaire knows that he’ll be up against someone competent, someone who has actually read the texts. He feels a lightness in his chest at the realization that perhaps this class may be exactly like the other. He’s just about to say something to the blond when Enjolras stands up and walks over to their Professor. 

Grantaire watches as they exchange words because somehow his Apollo looks even better this week than the week before. He’s still wearing that fitted red jacket but dark jeans underneath this time instead of khakis. His hair is still perfect, curling against his ears in the most delightful way but somehow, he seems to be exuding even more confidence this time. Grantaire’s chest tightens when Enjolras’ eyes meet his and his cock actually twitches because of the look they exchange. He has no idea how he’s going to be able to handle being in the same class at Enjolras more than once a week now, not if his dick is going to be an asshole and get hard every time the blond looks at him. How in hell is he supposed pay attention with Enjolras sitting beside him, being so goddamned passionate and attractive? He’d think that the gods were cursing him, if he believed in them. 

Fortunately, he’s pulled from his thoughts when their professor begins to speak. If she can actually manage to pull his thoughts away from Enjolras for a moment, it bodes well for his grades. “Hello class,” she says, “This is one of your colleagues and he’d like to make an announcement before we get underway.” She turns to Enjolras and says, “So, I’ll let you introduce yourself,” and then steps back, slightly. 

Enjolras smiles at the class and Grantaire feels his heart flutter, breaking his concentration once more. Grantaire longs for that smile to be just for him, just like the one Enjolras had given him before class, and the weak one he’d flashed Grantaire at the bar. Their eyes meet again and Grantaire could swear that Enjolras’ smile widens, if only slightly. Immediately, Grantaire is enraptured with the man that stands almost directly in front of him, drowning in his presence with no thought to even hope for rescue. .

“As many of you already know, my name is Enjolras. I’ve recently been working on the Pride on Campus committee and I’m happy to tell you that we finally have an event planned. Next Friday night, we’re going to have a pub night. There will be a five dollar cover charge but all of the proceeds are going to go to Pride on Campus, so really, it’ll be worth it. That way, we can have more events like this in the future. Doors open at ten, bring your friends whether they’re queer or just supportive. I can’t wait to see everyone,” he states and with every single word, Grantaire’s eyes widen further. He’d begun to think he’d imagined that almost-kiss that fucking Marius had interrupted but it seems that he may not have, after all.

Even if he hadn’t dreamed it, Grantaire hadn’t thought that maybe Enjolras had been serious about it, that maybe his Apollo is gay too. At the time, that had been too much to hope. But now, here he is, standing in front of the classroom, basically admitting his sexual preference to everyone there. It’s only now that Grantaire allows himself to hope. Perhaps those smiles mean something, after all. The thought makes Grantaire warm inside. He can just imagine it now, passionate arguing about politics and philosophy and then equally passionate fucking afterward. He imagines that they can’t keep their hands off of each other, that they continue to debate even in the throes of passion. Grantaire feels his face warm before he attempts to push the thoughts aside. Now is not the time to be entertaining these scenarios.

As he sits back down, Enjolras catches Grantaire’s eye again. “Can I talk to you at break?” he asks. All Grantaire can do is nod. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to refuse Enjolras anything and the thought is absolutely freeing. Grantaire doesn’t think he’s ever felt so strongly for something in his life. 

Finally, the class starts and Grantaire can pull his thoughts away from his gorgeous neighbour and focus. All he has to do is refuse to look to his left and he can almost forget that Enjolras is beside him. That is, until Enjolras’ thigh brushes against Grantaire’s and his mind is gone off again, into the place where he’s allowed to run his fingers over those dark blue jeans under their shared desk. Fortunately, this happens directly before they’re permitted a fifteen minute break. 

Enjolras slides his chair closer to Grantaire’s and his sun god possesses all of his attention once more. Grantaire has no idea what this is about but he hopes that Enjolras wants to revisit their exchange from Friday night, this time in one of their beds without any clothing present. 

“I was wondering if you want to help, for Pride night,” Enjolras says quietly. 

Grantaire raises an eyebrow, “what makes you think I’d have any interest in doing something like that?” he asks. It’s not that he doesn’t have any interest. He’d gladly help organize a Pride night if only to stare at Enjolras’ ass from the base of a ladder, but he doesn’t care about promoting it or even going, aside from the fact that it’s easier to find bed partners at things like that.

“Oh, I just thought that you...” 

Grantaire gets it. He almost laughs at the way Enjolras’ face falls. “I am, definitely. Gay, that is,” he admits. “I’m just not fond of labels, or organized clubs. I mostly just go to this type of shit for the booze and the possibility of getting laid.”

“Oh...” Enjolras replies. He bites the bottom of his lip and Grantaire’s breath catches in his throat. He wishes he were the one biting on that moist, pink patch of skin. His own mouth waters at the thought. “Well if you change your mind...” 

That decides Grantaire. “What the hell,” he says, “I’ll do it.” He wishes he could say that he has no idea why he’s agreeing to this but he does. It’s because Enjolras asked him and he’s absolutely consumed by him despite being aware that being too close to the sun will inevitably result in being burned. Grantaire doesn’t care. He’d never been one for self-preservation.

As soon as the words leave his mouth, Grantaire is faced with an absolutely beautiful vision. Enjolras completely lights up and starts chattering on excitedly about all the things that need to be done and all the things Grantaire can help with. He does this for most of the break and even Grantaire feels himself beginning to want to do these things, if only to see Enjolras look this excited all of the time. Grantaire doesn’t even want to think about what he’d do to have this look etched permanently on Enjolras’ handsome face. 

“And you should give me your phone number and your e-mail,” Enjolras finishes. 

Grantaire smirks and raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah?” he teases. “Whyever for? Do you want to ask me out on a date, dear Apollo?” 

“What did you call me?” Enjolras asks with a frown and Grantaire laughs. “Whatever, and no, it’s so that we can discuss your tasks before Friday,” he says. His tone is dismissive but the look on his face contemplative when Grantaire mentions them going on a date. Grantaire’s heart positively soars. 

Since class is just about to start, instead of audibly answering, Grantaire snatches Enjolras’ notebook and scribbles his name, number and e-mail address down. Beside his name he writes, ‘for a good time’ and draws a heart. He watches as Enjolras rolls his eyes upon its return and can’t seem to keep his grin at bay for the rest of the class. 

He tries to catch Enjolras after their lesson but the blond begs off, saying that he has another class to get to and quickly disappears down the hall. Although Grantaire would have liked to spend more time with him but accepts his departure since now Enjolras has many ways to get a hold of him. He stops by the liquor store on the way and buys a bottle or two of wine so that he can enjoy himself while reading _Antigone_. He figures he might as well get into the Greek mindset while he does his homework; this has always seemed to help him in the past. 

He’s just poured his first glass and settled down into the comfiest chair that he and Marius own when his phone dings from across the room. Grantaire curses wildly and imaginatively at having to get up from his chair. He’s sure that it’s Marius. His roommate has a knack for interrupting Grantaire at the worst possible moments. Like that time when he was getting a blowjob in the shower from Courfeyrac, or that time when he was in a beer chugging contest and had ended up losing because Marius had burst in and caused Grantaire to spit his mouthful all over his opponent and himself. Most recently, Marius, _fucking_ Marius, had interrupted when Enjolras had been about to kiss Grantaire. He thinks that in comparison to all of the other times Marius has managed to ruin something for Grantaire that one is the worst. Now Grantaire will never know if his sun god would have followed through. All he can do is hope that he gets another chance to find out.

When he finally gets to his phone after almost tripping over the stool and falling into the wall in order to avoid the stool, Grantaire sees that it’s not Marius after all. He doesn’t recognize the number and briefly considers abandoning his phone in favour for wine and classic literature until he remembers who he’d given his number to earlier that day and then he scrambles to access the message. He’d been right, it is Enjolras, asking him to make an advert for the Pride night. Somehow, Enjolras had learned that Grantaire is artistic, particularly with photoshop and wishes to purloin his skills. Grantaire doesn’t know whether or not he should blame Combeferre for this, or thank him, since he’s the only one who has ever seen Grantaire’s work out of all of his friends and he knows that it must have been him that told Enjolras even though Grantaire hadn’t even known that Combeferre and Enjolras knew each other.

Before he answers, Grantaire adds Enjolras into his phone under ‘Apollo’ and considers his response. He’s sure that he’ll do it, eventually, but he doesn’t want to tell that to the blond straight out. He decides on a reply, _I’ll do it. How about we meet and discuss the particularities_

Enjolras answers quickly, agreeing and suggesting a cafe near his apartment. It’s a bit of a walk for Grantaire so he asks that they meet in a half an hour and then sets about getting ready once Enjolras agrees with the plan. He considers quickly draining his glass of wine but decides against it. He knows that he can order a shot of Bailey’s in his coffee once he gets to the shop if he wants to, which is something he already wants.

Grantaire grabs his ipod and his wallet and heads out after locking the door behind himself. When he arrives at the shop, he sees Enjolras sitting in a corner and holding a ceramic mug in his hands. Of course Enjolras wouldn’t be using something disposable. It seems like if there’s a cause to stand for, Enjolras is the first to sign up. Grantaire purposely orders his coffee (of course with the Bailey’s) in a paper to-go cup and then saunters over to where his handsome new friend is sitting. 

Grantaire grins when Enjolras scowls at his cup. “Hello, Apollo,” he says.

Enjolras’ gives him a confused look but otherwise doesn’t mention Grantaire’s nickname for him. This makes Grantaire grin, since it seems like he’s going to get away without explaining it for a bit longer. 

“So you wanted to discuss the flyer?” Enjolras prompts. 

Grantaire nods and drinks from his spiked coffee. “What I’m mostly wondering is why you would pick me, of all people,” he replies. 

Enjolras looks perplexed for a moment, like he doesn’t understand where the question has come from at all. He bites his lip and Grantaire’s breath catches. “You’re gay,” he states. 

“Yes,” Grantaire nods. “So?”

“And you have the skills to help. Don’t you want to bring more awareness to campus?” he asks. “Don’t you want us to be able to be out and safe? That’s what Friday is about, having a safe place for us to be. Isn’t that something that you want too?” 

Grantaire most certainly notices how Enjolras had said ‘us’ right before he snorts and shakes his head. “I couldn’t give two shits about the level of acceptance on campus. The only reason why I even go to pride nights is that it’s easier to hook up because it mostly eliminates the guess work involved in finding a willing partner.”

“Grantaire, be serious,” Enjolras snaps. “Homosexuality is something that’s been persecuted harshly over the years and it’s only been recently that it’s becoming more accepted. How can you not want to speak out for your friends? Don’t you want to make things better? We don’t have to sneak around anymore, we don’t have to fear for our lives for acting on our love. We can be free, and love whoever we want to. How can you not want to promote that?”

“We are very different people,” Grantaire says simply. He takes another drink from his cup, liking the harsh taste of the alcohol on his tongue. 

“I’m starting to see that,” Enjolras intones. His face is blank, the hope and passion wiped from it completely. All Grantaire wants is to see it come back so he leans forward, cups his hand around Enjolras’ and smiles at him, this time without any form of mockery. 

“This isn’t something I’d normally do,” he says honestly. “But this once, I will, for you.” He lets go of Enjolras’ hands at this point, not because he wants to but because he thinks that holding onto them longer will make it awkward. He reaches for his coffee cup instead.

“You don’t make any sense,” Enjolras accuses but his face has lost some of its hardness and Grantaire feels like he may be able to coax a smile from those perfect lips. 

“Does me making sense matter?” Grantaire asks, just to be contrary. “I’m going to do what you want me to.”

Enjolras smiles and shakes his head. “I guess not,” he replies, “as long as it gets done.”

Grantaire grins at him and pats his shoulder, saying, “exactly.” 

The blond breathes out and shakes his head, “do you have to be this difficult all of the time?” 

Grantaire’s smile widens and he tilts his head to the side. “Do you have to be so serious?” he teases, “I mean, I’m really good at having fun, I can teach you too, if you want.”

Enjolras scrubs a hand through his golden hair, upsetting the curls and causing them to frizz slightly. Grantaire finds that he likes this look even more, now that his hair is a little messier, Enjolras looks almost human.He’s even more attracted to the blond now. “There are some things that aren’t jokes,” Enjolras says finally and not even Grantaire feels the need to argue with him about it. 

“What do you want on the flyer?” he asks instead, before sliding against the back of his chair. 

At this, Enjolras brightens and starts describing the things they could do with it. Grantaire actually takes notes of what Enjolras wants it to say and nods along. Finally, it seems like they’ve discussed all of the points needed and it’s time for each of them to go. As they head to the door and say their goodbyes, Enjolras clasps his hand, pats his arm, and smiles at him. Grantaire promises to deliver the advert by the next morning and returns the smile wholeheartedly. 

On his way home, he takes out his phone and selects Apollo on his list of contacts. He quickly types out, _Life, liberty and the pursuit of property vs happiness, discuss_ and grins when the red light flashes almost immediately. 

Enjolras’ reply almost makes him laugh because it’s so optimistic and hopeful that Grantaire almost doesn’t want to reply with what he really thinks. _One doesn’t need property in order to achieve happiness_. 

Grantaire stops and lights a cigarette before replying, _of course you would say that but think about this, with money and property, you don’t have to work four jobs to make ends meet and you have the leisure to actually enjoy yourself and reflect on the deep questions of the world. Having leisure is what brings happiness, and property helps along the way_. He inhales deeply on his cigarette and continues on his way home. His phone beeps again but this time it’s Marius informing him that he’s at Courfeyrac’s for a party and that the host is looking for him. Another time, Grantaire would absolutely be tempted. Courfeyrac has a talented mouth and soft lips and he always seems to want Grantaire in his bed but this time Grantaire has something other than sex or even alcohol to fill the void. His phone goes off again and this time it’s Enjolras. Grantaire doesn’t even bother replying to Marius before reading the reply. 

_I can see some truth in your argument but with it you imply that people without property can’t achieve happiness and I refuse to accept that. While I can agree that the pursuit of property may bring happiness to some, it serves only to bring grief to others which brings me to my original statement that one does not need property in order to achieve happiness_. His reply makes Grantaire smile and almost makes him write back _can we make out now?_ but he doesn’t. Instead he moves on to a different subject and they text back and forth for a while yet. 

Once he gets home, Grantaire rescues his wine and heads to his bedroom. There, he pulls out the notes that he’d made while meeting with his Apollo and begins working. All the while, he and Enjolras continue to debate though they don’t spend enough time on any single subject before moving on with the next argument. That evening, Grantaire feels far more satisfied than he has in a long time and he finds that he almost forgets about the wine in lieu of intelligent conversation with Enjolras.


	3. Marius, Again!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still no sex, but rating is upped for other reasons. They really are taking their time, here. I apologize.

The texting with Enjolras continues over the next few days and Grantaire feels himself fall a little more in love with every exchange. Grantaire knows that he’s well read and that his idea of fun is picking up Plato’s _Symposium_ , pouring a glass of wine and going over the intricacies of the text; it seems that Enjolras feels the same way, except perhaps without the wine. Every single book that Grantaire prompts Enjolras with is met with not only a response but one that is thought provoking and intelligent. Grantaire lives for the exchanges between them and it seems that with the frequency he receives responses that Enjolras does as well. 

His Thursday Political Theory class cannot come soon enough and when it finally does, Grantaire doesn’t even spike his coffee before leaving the house. He slides into the same seat as the week before even though he still doesn’t like sitting at the front because it’s the one that’s beside Enjolras. Grantaire smirks over at him as he sits and Enjolras smiles gently back. He has a pile of the flyers on his desk and Grantaire assumes already that he’s going to make his little announcement before this class as well. 

“Can you come and help decorate before the party next Friday?” Enjolras asks him suddenly, just as they’re about to begin. 

Grantaire thinks about it for moment because he’d much rather be at home, pre-drinking with Marius before getting there but if it means spending more time with Enjolras then, “Sure. What time?” he asks. 

“I’ll let you know,” Enjolras replies and then stands up to announce the even to the class. He delivers his little speech and leaves the flyers at the front.

Once he returns to his seat, Professor Valjean steps to the front and begins their lesson. “So, we’re going to start each class with a question,” he says as he leans back against the podium. “So, let me ask you this, which comes first, traditions or the state?” he asks. 

Grantaire looks over as Enjolras raises his hand. Valjean just nods at him and Enjolras says, “I would say traditions trump the state.”

“Okay, why?” Valjean replies. Grantaire actually wants to hear this so he turns his seat so as the be able to fully see Enjolras. 

“Because for most people, the state is just this faceless idea that keeps them all in line. The state dictates to them what they can and cannot do. On the other hand, communities and families are what form traditions and I think that most people would be more willing to put their families before the state,” Enjolras points out. 

Grantaire doesn’t even wait for Valjean to ask if anyone else has an opinion before saying, “but the state is the thing that is in place to protect your families and traditions, so why then would you turn your back on the state in favour of your traditions?” 

Enjolras turns to stare back at Grantaire and replies, “because the state isn't compatible with a whole host of traditions. What it does it quashes whatever traditions it finds wanting and implements its own, undercutting all the value they had in the first place!” Grantaire can’t believe how good Enjolras looks right now, with his face red and eyes burning. He looks like he just wants to come over and throttle Grantaire for being a contrarian and Grantaire would joyfully let him, just to keep that look on his face. 

“So you’re trying to tell me that we can all exist in harmony without the state protecting us?” Grantaire replies. “That we can live without fearing death and thieves and all of those other terrifying things if we were a stateless government?” 

“Yes,” Enjolras replies. “Perhaps then we wouldn’t have to deal with unjust laws and be expected to follow them.” He pauses for a moment, as if to collect his thoughts before beginning again, “There was a case that occurred in the nineties where a Johova’s Witness refused to get a blood transfusion which would have saved her life. The state then intervened and forced her to get it all the while claiming that it was not an infringement on her religious freedom. How are we to trust the state to protect our traditions when it does things like this and completely tramples on them? I think we’d be much better if we were free and expected to protect our own beliefs.” Enjolras directs this part specifically to Grantaire, eyes burning brightly with the fire that Grantaire has so longed to see. He’s quite obviously getting worked up about this, his cheeks are reddened and he’s breathing heavily and it’s all Grantaire can do not to surge forward and seize that beautiful mouth in a kiss. Thankfully, they’re interrupted. 

“Alright,” Professor Valjean says from the front, “how about this? Would you defy the law to maintain the protection of the family or religion? Or would you sacrifice a family member?” 

“As someone who values self-preservation, I would in no way protect my family if one of them happened to have murdered someone, or something,” Grantaire replies. He earns a few chuckles from the class and a searing look from his Apollo.

“I would protect my family under any circumstances,” Enjolras replies strongly. He’s been worked up to the point of actually standing up at his desk. Grantaire would think it was funny if it wasn’t so incredibly hot. There’s no way in hell that he’s going to be able to stand up anytime soon, not if his dick has anything to say. Currently, it’s completely enraptured by Enjolras and standing at attention. “The bonds of family and tradition far surpass the reach of the state, especially when the state is not doing those traditions any justice. I hate to bring up the obvious, but look at what we’ve done to the indigenous cultures in Canada and the US. They exist as only a fraction of what they were before we wiped them out with disease and war and their culture has all but been destroyed. I think that it’s more valuable to protect tradition for future generations and protect language than to obey every single law that the state inflicts upon us.”

Grantaire thinks that Enjolras is literally about to lunge toward him due to his predatory stance and the lightning in his blue, blue eyes but he doesn’t get the chance to do so. Grantaire is about to reply to his Apollo when Valjean speaks up. “Well thank you both for your very valid opinions, but we’re going to get started with _Antigone_.” Valjean jumps into the lecture which is probably for the best, especially considering the way that Enjolras glares at Grantaire as he sits back down, before spinning back around and taking notes. Grantaire also thinks that were they permitted to continue their argument, the results would have been particularly x-rated. Although he’s very comfortable with his sexuality, he doesn’t feel the need to put it on display in front of his entire classroom. He ignores Enjolras for the moment, and leans in to take his own notes.

Eventually, they hit the midway mark and Valjean sends them on a break. Grantaire really needs a cigarette, especially after the run in with Enjolras earlier, so he slips his jacket on and heads outside. He doesn’t notice Enjolras behind him until he hears, “is nothing sacred to you?” 

Grantaire turns toward him, cigarette perched on his lips, and just stares at Enjolras before breaking out into laughter. 

“Seriously, Grantaire. I get that you’re trying to play the devil’s advocate here, making me really analyze my answers and truly believe my own opinions but you never offer up your own. I can tell that you’re always just arguing with me, making me defend myself and I don’t even know what you stand for. What do you believe in anyway? I doubt you’re such a patriot that you would defend the state with your own life, but I also doubt you have any family traditions that you’d honour. Grantaire, you need to decide who you are and grow the fuck up!” At this point, Enjolras is right in Grantaire’s face and Grantaire can see that intoxicating fire in his eyes once more. He doubts that he would ever need to drink again if only he could be subjected to this gaze daily, hourly, even by the minute.

Just like he had at the bar that night, he drops his cigarette to the ground even though he hasn’t even lit it and leans forward. By this point, there is only mere inches separating his mouth from Enjolras’. “I told you, I believe in you,” Grantaire replies, barely whispering the words. Enjolras’ lips are so close to his that he can feel the heat coming off of them. It would only take a slight movement forward for his to touch them and he so wants to move ahead. 

“Be serious, Grantaire,” Enjolras snaps, his own voice at barely a whisper. 

Grantaire just grins at him in return and says, “that is much too big an expectation of me, as you will come to learn.”

For a moment Grantaire thinks that everything he’s been wanting for the past week is about to occur and then something entirely different happens, Grantaire hears his name and just as their lips are about to touch. Enjolras is suddenly pulling away and turning around to see who is calling out to them. Standing there, just a few feet off, is Marius, _fucking_ Marius. Grantaire shoots him a glare and is about to tell him off when Enjolras smiles at him.

“Marius!” he says, walking over to shake his hand. “I haven’t seen you in ages! How are your classes going?” 

Grantaire glares at the both of them as they exchange pleasantries and lights a new cigarette since he’d just thrown a perfectly good on onto the ground. He leans against the wall of the school and smokes while he watches as his roommate and Enjolras talk to each other. He can’t believe that Marius has managed to interrupt them again. It isn’t fair. It’s starting to seem like Grantaire is never going to be able to sample Enjolras’ passion for himself. 

He finishes his cigarette and calls out, “Apollo, we’d better get back to class,” and then heads toward the door. He doesn’t even know if Enjolras is behind him but he climbs the three flights of stairs to the R-Wing anyway. It turns out Enjolras is almost directly behind him though, since he slides past Grantaire within seconds of him entering. Grantaire looks over at him and Enjolras smiles. With that one quirk of his lips, Grantaire knows that everything between them is fine. 

The remainder of the lesson is uneventful. Grantaire pulls on his jacket once more when it finishes and heads toward the door. Something catches him by the elbow though, and he is forced to turn around and meet the perfect blue eyes of his sun god. “Are you sure you can help out before the party?” he asks. 

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it,” Grantaire replies with a grin. Enjolras smiles back at him and they both head out of the class. 

“I didn’t know that you knew Marius,” Enjolras replies. He pulls on his own jacket and heads toward the front of the school where the bus stop is as well. He must have been more drunk than Grantaire had thought, since Marius had spoken to the two of them that night at the bar. He doesn’t mention it though, since it’s not like it really matters.

“He’s my roommate,” Grantaire says, shrugging. “We met in Intro to Classics and got along well. Since we didn’t want to live on campus the next year, we decided to get an apartment together.” 

“You should bring him to Pride Night,” the blond states and they exit the school and join the rest of the students waiting for the bus.

Grantaire has already invited Marius, but he’s not going to admit it. Instead, he replies, “Marius has a bad habit of being a cock block so I’d really much rather leave him at home. That way, I can get exactly what I want.”

Grantaire hadn’t thought it was possible for someone so perfect to blush, but there is a pink tinge to Enjolras’ cheeks. Grantaire’s chest constricts and his body is propelled to move forward. He stops short though. Instead of wrapping his arm around Enjolras’ back and pulling him closer like he wants to, Grantaire’s hand just brushes his shoulder and then falls to the side. Enjolras looks for a moment to be about to step forward, toward Grantaire but he stops as well. “I forgot, I’m supposed to meet Combeferre about the debate club,” he says. He actually sounds upset about it, like he wanted to stay here with Grantaire and hang out some more before the bus arrives. Grantaire nods and backs away slightly. “You should think about joining,” Enjolras says after a moment’s pause, “since you believe in nothing and seem to be able to argue about anything, you’d likely be really good at it. 

“I’m not exactly one for extra curricular activity,” Grantaire replies with a grin.

“Just think about it then. Text me if you have any questions,” Enjolras replies before heading back into the school. Grantaire waves at him as he goes and again feels like he’s somehow been cheated out of something. He thinks he may actually join this debate club, if only to see Enjolras in his element even more. 

That night, he and Marius smoke way too much weed and play Super Mario on the Wii. He doesn’t wake up until noon the next day and then only because his phone goes off. He rolls over and grabs it, blinking a few times to clear his sleep addled mind before registering the text message. It’s from Enjolras and Grantaire can’t think of a better way to wake up, except perhaps with his Apollo beside him, gloriously naked, ready for a second, third or fourth round. Grantaire grins at the image in his head. Enjolras would look better without his clothes than with, his warm skin displayed fully for Grantaire to worship. Grantaire can imagine his golden curls fanned out against his pillow, his red mouth open, lips swollen from kissing; it’s delightfully erotic. Grantaire imagines himself above Enjolras, dipping his mouth down all over that delicious skin, treating Enjolras like the golden god he is. 

He shakes his head, clearing his head of such tantalizing thoughts before actually reading the text message. _Have you thought about the debate club?_ , it reads. 

Grantaire rolls his eyes. It seems that Enjolras is determined in every aspect of his life, even to the point of forcing Grantaire to do what he wants him to. This brings Grantaire’s mind back to how Enjolras would be in bed. Dominating, he thinks. He’d throw Grantaire down, pin his arms to the bed with his hands and fuck him into submission. Or, Grantaire can imagine that they would argue about something, enlightenment theory perhaps, or modernity as Enjolras slid into him over and over again. Grantaire would have trouble keeping his thoughts together but Enjolras wouldn’t let him come until the argument was settled. Lastly, he thinks that since his Apollo demands such control in his everyday life, perhaps during sex he would be compliant. He’d let Grantaire take the lead, let Grantaire fuck him so hard that he forgets about all of his causes and beliefs. Perhaps in that moment, Grantaire would be all that matters to him. Grantaire wishes desperately for a time that this could be true.

By this point, he’s worked himself up enough that he certainly needs to take care of his rapidly hardening cock. Instead of responding right away, he gets up and heads to the shower, where he takes care of his little (or not so little) friend. After he does that and gets himself clean, he goes back to his bedroom and responds to Enjolras, _when do you meet?_ he asks. 

The reply is almost instantaneous and Grantaire grins. It seems like he’s definitely made an impact on his new blond friend. The message reads _meet me for coffee and we can discuss this further. Is an hour good? Same cafe?_. 

Grantaire’s grin stretches even more widely at this point. It’s only been a day and it seems that Enjolras is desperate to see him. He types back a quick affirmative and then sets about getting ready. He doesn’t want to do anything with his wild, dark curls so he puts on a beanie and a hoodie. He makes sure he has his wallet in the pocket of his jeans and then heads down to the kitchen to get a pre-coffee date coffee. What he sees in the kitchen literally burns his eyes. 

He’s not sure whether it’s the smoke from the stove that makes his eyes water or if it’s the vision of Marius with Eponine pressed up against the stove, hands lifting her shirt, mouths fused together with no hint of separating any time soon. Grantaire rushes over to the stove and grabs the burnt mess, putting it in the sink as he yells, “Fuck, Marius!” Instantly, the two of them pull apart, but the damage is already done. Eponine’s shirt has already hit the floor and Grantaire has seen far too much. “Can’t the two of you keep it in your room? At least while I’m home?” 

“You’re one to talk,” Marius says with a silly, crooked grin on his face, one that says that he was definitely just about to get lucky. “Didn’t I walk in on you with Courfeyrac one time?” 

“Courfeyrac? Nice,” Eponine commends. She’s made no move to pick up her shirt yet and Grantaire refuses to avert his eyes, despite being gay. If she’s going to show them off, then he’s going to look.

“We were in the shower, thank you very much,” Grantaire replies. “Now, my poor gay eyes have been ruined and I’m supposed to meet Enjolras in an hour. How am I supposed to appreciate his manly excellence when all I can see in my head are Eponine’s tits?”

Finally, Eponine bends down and picks up her shirt. She puts it on quickly before rounding on Grantaire. “Enjolras? Why are you meeting him?” she asks.

“Because his perfection calls to me, and I cannot refuse,” Grantaire replies eloquently. Instead of moving toward the coffee machine, because a very shirtless Marius is standing in front of it, he digs in the fridge for the energy drink he’d left there sometime the week before. When he finds it, he cracks it open and turns back toward the two of them. “Every time I see him, I fall further in love,” he sighs dramatically. 

“You know that dude is like, asexual right? I mean, in regards to people. I’m pretty sure that debates, politics and social justice get him off,” Marius says. Eponine walks back over to him and he slides his arm around her waist as she nods toward Grantaire. 

“Marius is right, I’ve never even heard of him getting with anyone,” she replies. 

Eponine would know too, since it seems like she knows everything about everyone but Grantaire just shrugs. “Maybe he just hasn’t met the right guy yet. He told me that he’s gay in class.”

“Really?” Eponine replies. “How did that come up?”

“He’s organizing a Pride night at the pub next week and wanted some help making a flyer for it,” Grantaire replies. “You two should come,” he adds with a shrug. 

“I’m so there,” Eponine replies. “I love me some ladies.”

Grantaire actually laughs out loud at the love struck look on Marius’ face. Even though Marius is taking his time making things official, he knows that it’s going to eventually happen and he’s glad that they’d finally gotten their heads out of their asses and started fucking each other. Neither of them seem too willing to commit though and it worries Grantaire to think that they might lose each other. He finishes off his energy drink and tosses the can into the recycle bin before he heads out of the kitchen. “Now that I’m leaving, feel free to use the kitchen in any way you want, just bleach it after, please!” he calls out as he heads to the door. 

The walk to the cafe is pleasant even though the warm air is slowly dissipating, leaving room for winter’s inevitable arrival. It’s only the second week of September and already the leaves are painted burnt orange, golden yellow and brilliant red. Grantaire loves the fall, loves the colours and the smells. His hands itch to paint the trees and too bright skies. 

His cheeks are rosy from the chill by the time he arrives at the cafe and he heads up to the front to order himself a coffee before walking over to join Enjolras and what looks like Combeferre sitting at a table. He smiles when Enjolras looks up and slides into an empty seat. “Hello Combeferre, Apollo,” he says in greeting. 

Combeferre smirks at him and Enjolras smiles as well but continues to ignore the nickname. “Grantaire, we’re glad you came,” the golden god says as he flicks his curls back, out of his eyes. 

“I kind of figured you would be, since you gave me less than twenty four hours to make a decision,” Grantaire laughs. 

Combeferre rolls his eyes, “he can’t stop talking about how much he wants you for this,” he says. “Seriously, all I hear about is how amazing you are at arguing and how ho-”

“That’s enough, Combeferre. I don’t want you to scare him away,” Enjolras interrupts. Grantaire thinks he may be able to guess at what Combeferre had been about to say, especially judging by the blush that colours Enjolras’ perfect skin. He just arches an eyebrow at the blond before his Apollo continues, “So we meet on Friday afternoons and we debate once a month,” he says. “Basically, Professor Javert picks the assignment and the teams and then meets with us to make sure we’re on the right track in our weekly meetings. At the end of the month, we debate and Professors Valjean as well as Professor Javert judge the match and announce the winners. At the end of each semester, the team with the most wins is awarded with a party at their choice of restaurant. And it looks really good on Masters applications.” 

Grantaire hadn’t totally been sold yet before Enjolras had mentioned the application. He sighs and says, “Well then, I guess I’m in. I need a little padding to my masters applications.” 

“Looks like you didn’t even need to drag me here for more convincing,” Combeferre states, rolling his eyes over at Enjolras. “That was far easier than I expected it to be. Grantaire, you usually don’t agree to anything since you’re apparently always too busy being drunk, or high, or both.” 

“Those are three of my favourite past times,” Grantaire admits with a grin, “but apparently I’m good at Classics and not much else, so in order to continue with something I’m good at, I might as well sacrifice my drunken Friday afternoons for sobriety and a spot in a post-grad program,” he laughs. 

“Well, I’m glad. Spending every Friday afternoon being drunk is a waste of your brain, Grantaire,” Enjolras states. “Our first meeting is next week,” he adds, “and after we’re going to decorate for Pride night. Can I count on you for that too?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of missing it, Apollo,” Grantaire replies with a grin. Enjolras smiles back at him and nods and it’s enough for Grantaire, for now. He just hopes that soon enough, he’s going to be able to taste those lips that tease him constantly, and feel Enjolras’ perfect body against his. He’s not going to mention his ulterior motives for joining the Debate Club but if he’s any judge, it seems like Enjolras has some for inviting him in the first place.


	4. Luck is in the Air

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras evades Grantaire for a week but finally, they find each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter should be up sometime today, just cuz I didn't update last week. Sorry for that. I love all of you readers, you're the best :3

Not for the first time in his life, Grantaire is absolutely eager for the week to end. He slogs through his classes, even the ones with Enjolras in them, praying to the gods he doesn’t believe in that Friday comes quickly. Their Thursday class is cancelled due to some emergency that Valjean needs to take care of and though Grantaire looks, he can’t find Enjolras anywhere on campus. He gives up within the hour and heads home. 

He spends the night in a smoky haze, determined not to drink lest he be hungover for the meeting the following day. When Marius finally gets home, neck covered in hickeys, he steals the joint out of Grantaire’s mouth, settles on the couch next to him and inhales deeply. Grantaire watches as he settles back against the cushions and takes another hit. 

“That was mine,” he says, indignation clear on his face. 

“Don’t be selfish,” Marius replies, taking one more drag and then handing it back. “It’s been a long day, I need to unwind.”

Grantaire finishes the joint off and raises an eyebrow at Marius, “Oh? Did poor Monsieur Marius have a bad day?” he teases. 

“Shut up, Grantaire,” Marius replies with a sigh. “It’s just Eponine,” he complains. 

“She’s a wildcat,” Grantaire says with a grin. He really likes Eponine, he just thinks that she and Marius have some deep shit to figure out. 

Marius gets a sloppy grin on his face and he nods, “I know. But... something is missing.”

“I saw you two in the kitchen last week, it didn’t seem like something was missing then...” Grantaire replies. He reaches for the Wii controller, since he and Marius always go there when they’re stoned and hands one over to his friend. They don’t say anything while they set everything up (Mario Party this time) but once the first turn has started, Grantaire asks, “so what’s the matter, then?” 

Marius sighs and suddenly, Grantaire regrets asking in the first place. It feels like there won’t be a simple solution and Grantaire is happily stoned at the moment, he doesn’t want to have to think about Marius’ poor heart. “It’s just, sometimes I wish she were a little softer, sweeter. You know?” 

Grantaire shakes his head. “If I wanted sweetness, I’d be fucking Jehan,” he replies. “And fuck knows that will never happen.”

This makes Marius actually laugh, which Grantaire supposes is a good sign. “I think he and Courfeyrac hooked up,” he admits, “since you didn’t bother coming to that party. Apparently Courf’s been seen with flowers in his hair recently.”

“Really? That’s adorable,” Grantaire replies. He cheers then, since he’d gotten his first star but brings them back to the conversation at hand. “So you like that Eponine is a wildcat but you also want her to be softer?” 

“Well, not all the time,” Marius replies. “But maybe sometimes. Like, she doesn’t like to cuddle. What kind of a woman doesn’t like to cuddle?” 

“What kind of a man does?” Grantaire asks, just to be contrary. Marius shoots him a look which he ignores in favour of saying, “maybe you just need two girlfriends...” 

“I don’t know why I even talk to you, sometimes,” Marius replies. He reaches for the second joint that Grantaire had rolled earlier and lights it, which causes him to lose yet another minigame. “Fuck!” he curses which gives Grantaire the chance to snatch the joint away and take a hit. 

After that, they don’t talk about Eponine again since at this point they’re a little too stoned to think deeply. Instead, they focus on their game. Right before he heads to bed, leaving Marius sprawled out on the couch, apparently ‘too stoned to move’, he asks, “So even though you need a softer Eponine, you two are coming tomorrow night, right?”

“Yeah, now turn off the fucking lights. I need time alone with my brain,” Marius replies. Grantaire laughs and does as he’s told.

When he gets to his own room, he sees his phone flashing and checks it. It’s Enjolras, of course. The text reads, _debate meeting cancelled tomorrow in order to decorate for the pride night, see you at the club_. Grantaire nods at the phone and struggles to set an alarm. Enjolras wants him there for twelve thirty, which is insanely early, in Grantaire’s opinion, but he plans to get up at eleven nonetheless. He needs to make sure he looks hot before meeting with Enjolras.

He doesn’t get up at eleven. His alarm doesn’t rouse him out of sleep even a little bit when it starts going off at that time. He sleeps a full hour longer and it’s not until Marius is banging on his door and yelling that Grantaire actually realizes he’s supposed to be awake. “Shit, fuck, fuck, what time is it?” he calls out. He fumbles around for his phone and when he finally finds it, his stomach clenches when he sees that it’s already a quarter after twelve. There’s no way he’ll make it on time. He rolls onto his back and texts Enjolras, saying he needs to shower but that he can make it for one and Enjolras replies that there’s coffee there. Grantaire is just glad that he’s not going to have to face the wrath of a god over this.

He showers quickly, and dresses even faster, shoving a beanie over his hair instead of even attempting to tame it. Otherwise, he just throws on a striped shirt, some jeans and a hoodie then heads out of his room.The only thing he pauses long enough for is filling his flask with a little something to spike his coffee with since tonight will be a party, and then he heads out to catch his bus. Grantaire arrives at the pub just before one thirty and heads down to find Enjolras. He finds him up on a ladder, hanging a rainbow flag from the ceiling. Grantaire takes a moment to appreciate his ass in his tight pants and then clears his throat. Enjolras looks down at him and smiles, “The coffee is in the corner, I’ll meet you over there in a minute,” he says.

Grantaire nods and heads over. He pours a liberal amount of the alcohol in his cup and stashes the flask back into his pocket just before Enjolras arrives at his side. “Good morning,” Enjolras says and Grantaire thinks it’s the first time he’s heard his Apollo joke. Grantaire just grins at him and sips from his coffee. Enjolras gives him his assignment but then heads off to complete the many things Grantaire is sure he has listed for himself to do. Grantaire needs to set up the front, where they’ll be collecting cover and then decorate it appropriately afterward. It seems that now that Enjolras knows it exists, he’s taking full advantage of Grantaire’s artistic abilities.

He settles the desk and takes note of his supplies before settling on the paints. It’s been so long since the last time he’d painted that he can’t even remember it. It feels good though, filling the water, dipping the brushes into the bright acrylics and actually _making_ something. Before this, Grantaire had been just living his life day to day, getting wasted at least four days of the week and not really doing anything with himself. Now, he feels like he wants to do something, if not for the cause but for Enjolras. He still gets wasted, or at least high, four times a week or so but now he feels more of a sense of purpose. He wants to see Enjolras smile at him and if it means helping him out with the weekly cause, well it’s not like Grantaire would be doing anything else anyway.

He’s about halfway through his task when a shadow is cast over him. He looks up to see Enjolras, his perfect Apollo, is standing above him and looking down with a small smile playing across his lips. Grantaire scrambles to stand, “do you like it?” he asks.

Enjolras moves forward but Grantaire backs up a step, showing him that his hands are full of paint. “It’s perfect,” Enjolras replies. “Grantaire, you’re so good,” he adds.

Grantaire smiles at him crookedly, “not that great, really,” he says.

Enjolras just shakes his head and leans against the table. “Are you always this stubborn?”

“Oh, Apollo, you have no idea,” Grantaire says as he leans against the table as well. He reaches for his coffee and finishes off the now cold liquid.

Enjolras turns to him with an indiscernible look on his face, studying Grantaire. Grantaire arches a brow at him and holds up his mug, “more coffee,” he states before pushing himself off the table and heading over to the machine. Once he pours the steaming liquid into his cup, he pulls out his flask and whitens it with the Bailey’s.

“Grantaire!” he hears behind him, “what are you doing?”

He turns to see Enjolras frowning at him and shrugs. “It’s going to be a party, right? Why not start early?” he says with a grin.

“It’s three in the afternoon, what is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Grantaire replies. “I’m just starting early. If this were any other Friday, I’d be day drunk by now,” he repeats. He brings the cup to his lips and takes a long sip, keeping his eyes trained on Enjolras’ the entire time, challenging him to say something. “Want some?” he asks, finally.

“Grantaire, you’re smart, I know you are. Why would you think that drinking at three in the afternoon is a good idea? These types of habits lead into worse habits and then-”

Grantaire keeps looking at Enjolras as he lectures him, looking very serious and like he actually cares. The only thing is that he’s not listening at all. Instead, he’s watching Enjolras’ lips move. It’s amazing that he’s still so hot even when he’s trying to tell Grantaire what to do. In fact, he may be even hotter, all assertive and worked up like this. Grantaire begins to wonder if he’s this bossy during sex and comes to the conclusion that he must be. Enjolras is in control of every aspect of his life and he’s even now trying to control Grantaire’s life which means he’d definitely want to be in control if they were fucking. Grantaire is so distracted by Enjolras’ lips moving that he doesn’t even notice his own lips pressing against his cup and taking another sip until a shadow falls across Enjolras’ face.

“God, you’re hopeless,” he insists. “Just finish your job.”

Grantaire raises his cup at Enjolras and drinks deeply before heading back to his station. He spends the next few hours perfecting the sign at the front and seemingly stays much longer than anyone else who is helping set up. Additionally, next time he fills his coffee cup, he doesn’t add anything special to it. Once he finishes, he cleans everything up and goes over to say goodbye to Enjolras who is one of the only ones still here. “So I’ll see you later,” he says.

Enjolras doesn’t even bother looking down at him from his position on the ladder, seemingly still annoyed. “Yeah, okay,” he says. Grantaire grins in satisfaction. It seems like his golden god has a temper. That just makes teasing him more fun.

Back home, Grantaire changes into something incredibly sexy, pants that fit like a second skin and tighter shirt, one that hugs him in the most perfect way. He enjoys a few more brews with Marius before they both head back up to campus for the party. Marius is too loud on the bus up, talking about hooking up with lesbians but Grantaire just laughs at him since he knows that’s not going to happen. He’s joyfully tipsy without having over done it, yet, and he’s definitely planning out how he’s going to make his move assuming that Enjolras isn’t still mad at him. This is the perfect opportunity. If Enjolras does happen to still be angry, well then, Grantaire will just make him jealous with some beautiful boy he meets at the club.

They pay to get in and then head down to the club area of the student pub. Grantaire heads straight for the bar and orders them each a drink. He passes Marius his and Marius immediately takes his and disappears into the crowd, leaving Grantaire alone. He doesn’t mind, really, he’s used to Marius’ romantic pursuits but it does force him to have to find someone to talk to. For lack of any other option and since he hadn’t yet seen Enjolras, he turns to the blond girl standing next to him at the bar.

“Hi, I’m Grantaire,” he says as he sticks his hand out for his new friend to take. No one will ever be able to accuse him of not being sociable.

She turns and smiles at him and Grantaire’s mouth almost drops open. The woman in front of him is absolutely beautiful. She has blonde hair and wide blue eyes and if Grantaire weren’t such a big fan of cock, he would most certainly want to follow her around everywhere. He really hopes that Marius doesn’t find her because Marius tends to be positively puppy-like when he finds someone he likes. She’s almost ethereal, like a goddess, only not quite. Enjolras is definitely prettier than she is, at least Grantaire thinks so. 

She takes his hand daintily and shakes it. “I’m Euphrasie, but everyone just calls me Cosette,” she says. 

“I think I’d rather call you gorgeous,” Grantaire replies with a grin.

“Flatterer,” she accuses with a smirk. “It’s a good thing I’m bisexual.”

His grin widens as he replies, “Well then it’s too bad I’m not,” he says. “But although I don’t want to take you home, I would like to buy you a drink,” he says. 

“You’re on, Grantaire,” she says. She drains the rest of the drink that she has already and looks at him expectantly. 

He grins back at her and signals to the bartender. “I’ll have another of these,” he says, motioning to his beer, “and whatever this little lady would like.” 

Cosette tells him her drink order and turns back to Grantaire. “So, if you’re gay, then why are you wasting your time with me?” she asks. 

Grantaire gulps down his beer and then states, “Haven’t found anyone more interesting,” he admits. 

Cosette smiles and sips at her drink. “Well, we should go dance, and find you a sexy man to take home.”

Grantaire laughs and grins. He downs his drink and lets her grab his hand and lead him over to the mess of writhing bodies already on the floor. Once they get there, Cosette drags him right into the middle of the crowd, bringing his hands to her hips and letting the music flow through her. It’s the only way that Grantaire can explain it. She dances like no one is watching her and though she’s dragging Grantaire along, he can’t help but watch. They move together like they were born to do so, or maybe it’s just the booze. Cosette takes Grantaire’s hands and twirls around him and he laughs and laughs; it’s some of the most fun he’s had in a long while. The only thing he’d prefer to be doing at this point is debating with Enjolras, over shots, before inevitably making out with him against a wall somewhere. 

One song turns into the next and then the next until finally Grantaire begs off, citing the need for more drinks. Cosette just nods and trails behind him, still clutching at his hand. When they get to the bar, they see Marius there, with Eponine pressed up against him. It seems like she hadn’t actually come here looking for ladies. He approaches the two of them and when they turn to look at him, both of their eyes glaze over. Grantaire soon notices that neither of them are looking at him, but at the girl behind him instead. He turns to smirk over at Cosette but she has the exact same look on her face as well.

“Having a good time?” he asks his friend. Marius looks at him, completely awestruck and Grantaire has to force himself not to laugh. It seems like Marius has set his sights on a new woman, likely one that is completely out of his reach, again. “I’ll take that look as a yes,” he says.

Marius and Eponine both shake their heads at the same time and Marius looks over at Grantaire. “Yes,” he says, at the same time as Eponine seizes Cosette’s hand.

“You know that Grantaire is gay, right?” she asks pointedly. 

Cosette laughs and nods, “it was the first thing he told me,” she replies.

Grantaire shakes his head and says, “I’m pretty sure the first thing I told you was that you were gorgeous.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong,” Eponine replies. “And also, Marius and I are not gay, well, I’m a little gay, but Marius isn’t. You should come dance with us, especially since then you’ll have a better chance at scoring tonight.”

Cosette shrugs at Grantaire who just shrugs back and allows his friends to carry off his new platonic lifemate. He sighs and orders a drink at the bar, then thinks better of it and adds some shots to his order. If he’s not getting laid, or even hit on, then he’s going to make sure that he’s absolutely blitzed. He takes one shot after another and then heads back into the fray. He sees Marius, Eponine and Cosette, somehow all kissing each other at the same time. He vows at this point that he’s absolutely not going home tonight, if he can help it. Instead of heading over to them because they seem like they’re all quite busy, Grantaire goes outside. 

Once there he lights a cigarette and surveys the crowd. He sees Courfeyrac over in the corner and heads over as well. At least he can always go home with Courf if he can’t find anyone else. When he gets closer though, he notices that Courfeyrac most definitely has flowers weaving through his hair and Jehan is standing rather too close for it to be casual. Not to be deterred from finally finding someone he knows, someone that doesn’t steal his new friend away immediately, Grantaire continues his walk over. 

Courfeyrac, bless him, grins as Grantaire slides in beside them. “Hey,” he greets, “I haven’t seen you around for a while.” 

Grantaire takes a drag on his cigarette and grins. “I’ve been busy,” he admits. “And I hear you have been too. Hey Jehan,” he adds as an afterthought. Grantaire isn’t overly close with Jehan, knowing him only from his first year English seminar and seeing him around here and there. He doesn’t think they’ve ever really had a deep conversation but they’ll still greet each other in the hallways if they see each other. 

Jehan smiles and slides an arm around Courfeyrac’s back, possessive in a way that’s not obtrusive. Jehan is just making sure that Grantaire knows he’s with Courf now. “I hear you’re smitten,” he mentions. 

Grantaire raises an eyebrow and takes another drag. “Oh really?”

Jehan nods, “Courf told me you ditched his party to do something for Enjolras,” he states. 

Grantaire turns to Courfeyrac and mock glares at him, “I thought we were friends,” he complains. 

“I thought we were going to hook up that night,” Courfeyrac admits. “That’s why I kept forcing Marius to text you. Lucky for me you never showed and I found Jehan.” 

Jehan grins at him and leans in for a kiss. Grantaire has to admit that the two of them together are kind of adorable. He finishes his cigarette and sways a little on the spot. He’s had quite a bit to drink and he still hasn’t found Enjolras, which causes him to ask, “speaking of my Apollo, have either of you seen him yet?” 

“He’s on the upper level, being crazy,” Jehan replies. “In fact, you might want to go distract him. The party is great, he has nothing to worry about. And he was asking about you...” 

Grantaire just shrugs because from what he’s learned in these few short weeks, Enjolras is obsessive and won’t relax until the bar starts clearing out in an hour or so. “Well, you two have a good night. And Courf? If I can’t find anyone to go home with tonight, I’m sleeping on your couch. Last time I saw him, Marius was making out with two girls and there’s no way in hell I’m dealing with that, not after seeing Eponine topless last week...” 

“I don’t see why you’re complaining, Ep’s hot,” Courf replies. “But whatever, you have a key, just don’t expect Jehan and I to be quiet because of you.”

“Hearing gay sex is much better than hearing straight or lesbian sex, so I may see you later,” Grantaire adds. He waves them a goodbye just as Jehan pulls a joint out from behind his ear. Grantaire very seriously considers staying just for that reason but finds he’s more propelled toward Enjolras than the weed, a fact that would confuse him were he not so intent on finding the blond. 

Grantaire weaves around all the people between him and his destination, avoiding the couples and dancing away from inviting hands. He climbs the stairs to the upper level and glances around for Enjolras. 

When he sees him, finally, Grantaire has to do a double take. At first, he’s not actually sure if the gorgeous creature in front of him is the object of his obsession because he looks nothing like Enjolras normally would. His red pants look like they’ve been painted on and he’s wearing a sleeveless shirt, of all things, with a rainbow on it. There’s also a rainbow painted on his cheek and his golden locks are multi coloured with paint. To top off the look, Enjolras is also covered in sparkles, glittering in the dim light. The expression, that of deep intensity and worry, is all Enjolras though. Grantaire approaches. 

Enjolras is whispering sharply to Combeferre who is standing beside him, looking uncomfortable in the amount of glitter in which he’s covered. Both sets of their eyes rise toward him when he gets close enough. Grantaire smiles at him and Enjolras returns it, albeit somewhat worriedly. 

Grantaire frowns. “What’s wrong?” he asks as he stops in front of the not-so-blond.  
“Everything,” Enjolras replies. He just about starts listing the everything that is wrong but Combeferre stops him. “Nothing, but everything,” he admits.

“Relax,” Grantaire states, “Look around, everyone is having a great time, and you look hot as hell so why aren’t you enjoying yourself like everyone else? Let me buy you a drink.” 

Enjolras begins to shake his head but Combeferre pushes him forward. “Please, take him away so I can get rid of all of this glitter,” he says. 

Grantaire is glad to comply. He links his arm with Enjolras’ and then leads him over to the little bar that’s on the upper level. He orders himself a drink since it’s been at least an hour since his last refill and then orders three shots, all for Enjolras. He takes the drink into his own hand and pushes the shots toward the blond. Enjolras begins to pass two of them back but Grantaire shakes his head. “You need to relax, Apollo,” he insisted. 

“Why do you call me that?” Enjolras asks after grimacing from the first shot.

“It’s because of your sunny disposition,” Grantaire replies easily. 

Enjolras laughs and takes his second shot. “I doubt that,” he counters. He takes up the final shot and drains it before leaning a little closer to Grantaire. “So, I should relax?” 

Grantaire nods and grins. “And you know the best way to do that? Dancing. With me,” he states. 

Enjolras raises an eyebrow, perfectly arched and golden. “Oh really? I think you’re going to have to prove yourself on that one.” 

Grantaire’s grin only widens. He takes Enjolras’ hand and leads him to the dancefloor. By this time, it’s covered in bodies, writhing to the music, bending toward each other and the bodies of Enjolras and Grantaire are no exception. They start out distanced from each other but the crowd draws them closer together. Soon, they’re against each other and it’s everything Grantaire has been wanting. Enjolras’ body is hard, hot, pressing into him, making him dizzy and desirous. Enjolras’ hand is on his hips, then his back, then in his hair; Grantaire can’t stop smiling. 

As the songs bleed into each other, their feet keep moving, hands keep grasping until Enjolras is dragging him back toward the bar. It’s literally ten minutes before the end of the night and Grantaire knows that last call had been at least twenty minutes ago. Enjolras, somehow, still manages to get a beer out of the bartender. He takes a long swig then offers it to Grantaire. Grantaire drinks from it gratefully and then passes it back. Enjolras places the bottle back onto the counter and then leans against it. 

“I missed arguing with you in class this week,” he says. Grantaire smiles at him, full and unguarded. He’d missed it too. “So, here’s a question for you: if you could only have one, freedom, justice, happiness or security, which would you choose?”

Grantaire squares his shoulders, raises an eyebrow and launches right into the argument.


	5. all you dream of lately

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of Pride Night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go, as promised.

“Are we speaking in terms of absolutes?” Grantaire asks. 

“Absolutely,” Enjolras answers with a grin. 

“Well, there are pros and cons for all four of these options,” he says. “I mean, with happiness alone you run into the fact that you could be happy, but be severely oppressed, or be happy and forced to take some mind altering drug to achieve it. Or there’s always the brainwashed and happy option...” 

“Or Rousseau’s happy stupid animal...” Enjolras adds. 

“Exactly, so I don’t think that I’m going to choose happiness,” Grantaire replies. He shakes his head to clear it some in order to form his thoughts on the other three options. “Now, let’s talk about justice...” 

Grantaire sees Enjolras’ eyes light up, the passion already beginning to consume him. He’s about to launch into his arguments but then he realizes how thirsty he is. It had been a long night of dancing and his last drink had been gone at least a half an hour ago. He spots Enjolras’ beer on the bar just over his shoulder and reaches for it, getting right up in the blond’s space. His fingers just grasp along the neck of the bottle when he feels hot breath on his neck. Apparently, Enjolras had gotten even closer. 

Without stepping back, he turns his head only to be met with Enjolras’ lips pressing against his. Grantaire’s eyes go wide, his breath catches in his throat and his knees absolutely go weak before he mentally kicks himself and closes his eyes. He leans in then, kissing Enjolras with fervour, sliding his lips against Enjolras’ perfect mouth, slipping in his tongue and running it over Enjolras’ teeth. He pushes the blond back as their mouths fuse together and soon he’s pressing him back against the bar, biting at his lips, getting his hands on Enjolras’ hips and pressing his finger tips in. He’s been waiting for this, waiting for long weeks and now that he’s finally getting it, he feels like his world is about to shatter apart. 

During this time, Enjolras hasn’t been stationary, not at all. He has one hand on Grantaire’s back, the other buried in his curls and he’s opening his mouth to Grantaire and sliding his tongue in. The kiss is dirty, lips dragging against each other, teeth clashing and tongues battling for the upper hand. Their mouths are slick, sliding against each other in the most obscenely erotic way. Grantaire has been hard since they’d hit the dance floor, had gotten harder when he’d felt his Apollo’s breath against his neck. Now with Enjolras pressed against him, biting at his bottom lip and fucking _moaning_ like he’s never felt something so good before in his life makes Grantaire think that he should have possibly worn looser pants. At this point, they’re never going to come off and he wants them to come off, definitely. 

He unwillingly separates his lips from Enjolras’, silently cursing his body’s need for air. Enjolras whines deep in his throat and drops his lips to Grantaire’s neck at the same time as he moves the hand that had been on his back lower. Grantaire sucks in a breath and licks his swollen lips as Enjolras’ hands grasp at his ass as if feeling it out, determining how good it will feel. That’s when Enjolras leans up, catches Grantaire’s earlobe between his teeth. “Oh Jesus, fuck,” Grantaire curses, head thrown back now. “Enj, fuck, Enjolras... take me home with you,” he gasps out. “Please-”

Enjolras pulls away from him at this point and just stares at him, assessing the benefits of actually bringing Grantaire back to his house, to his bed. It feels like an eternity passes while they stand and look at each other, pressed together from the hip down. Grantaire licks his lips and it’s like the simple action spurs Enjolras into making a decision. He nods, once, quickly and then reaches over to drain the remainder of the beer that they’d all but abandoned. Grantaire grins at him and takes his hand, leading him out of the club and out into the cool, night air. There are cabs already lined up, ready to take the drunken revelers home. Grantaire pulls Enjolras into the closest one. 

The blond spares only enough time to tell the cabbie his address before he turns back to Grantaire and kisses him so hard that he ends up pressed against the door. Enjolras is half on him, kissing along his neck and whispering about how hard he plans to fuck him all the way down the hill. Grantaire groans, the words entering through his ears but then plummeting straight down to his cock. He can feel his Apollo bite at his neck, knows he’s leaving marks that everyone will see the next day. Grantaire stretches his neck out, allowing Enjolras to access even more skin with his teeth and tongue. Grantaire groans, wraps his leg around Enjolras’ and tilts his hips up. Enjolras bites him sharply and Grantaire gasps, “Fuck,” he curses. 

“You have a delightfully filthy mouth,” Enjolras murmurs. “It’s incredibly hot,” he adds. This time he leans up, kisses the mouth in question and slides in his tongue. Grantaire opens his own mouth up to him, allowing him full access. Their kiss is wet and messy and so hot that Grantaire cannot hold back the noises that keep escaping his throat. Enjolras swallows the noises, presses into Grantaire harder and seriously, they need to get to Enjolras house right the fuck now or else they’re going to end up naked in the cab. Enjolras bites his earlobe again and Grantaire’s hips shoot up just as they slow outside a small yellow apartment building. 

“Are we here?” Grantaire asks. Enjolras slowly climbs off of him to take a look and nods. “Fucking finally,” Grantaire adds, sitting up. He reaches into his pockets for some cash but Enjolras has already beaten him to it. His Apollo doesn’t wait for change, just pulls Grantaire out of the cab and searches for his keys in the pockets of his tight red pants. Finally, he finds them and unlocks the security door and they fall into the building together. Enjolras tugs him up a couple flights of stairs and then keys the next door unlocked. Just as the door starts to open under Enjolras’ touch, Grantaire surges forward to kiss him, getting his hands up into all of that painted, glittery hair. They fall through the door and into an open area that serves as both a living room and a kitchen, and also features a recently showered Combeferre. 

Grantaire aborts the kiss that he’s about lay on Enjolras’ collarbone and nearly falls down onto the floor. “Wow, I didn’t know you lived here,” he says to Combeferre with a nervous laugh. 

Combeferre just looks at the two of them together and shakes his head. “Keep it in your room,” he says to Enjolras, “and have some fun. Don’t worry, I have ear plugs.”

“Combeferre is the best,” Enjolras says too loud to be conspiratorially. “Combeferre, you are the best,” he adds to his roommate. Grantaire laughs because clearly the alcohol has started to settle into Enjolras’ veins. Enjolras grins back at him and tugs on his wrist. “Goodnight Combeferre,” he calls from his bedroom door. 

“Have good sex,” Combeferre calls back. 

“We will,” Grantaire adds before he’s being pulled into Enjolras’ room and tackled onto the bed. 

The door is kicked shut and Enjolras’ mouth is back on his skin, biting, licking and kissing him everywhere. “Keep talking,” he whispers, “justice, freedom, equality or security.”

Grantaire laughs, “as you wish, Apollo,” he replies. He hikes his legs up and wraps them around Enjolras’ hips. “Like I said, I most certainly won’t be choosing happiness, despite my best efforts to drink myself into oblivion so I don’t have to think about all the bad stuff in the world...” Grantaire’s speech is cut off because Enjolras has lifted his shirt and is now kissing over his abs, licking over the lines his muscles make under his skin. “Fuck, Enj...”

“Keep going,” he encourages before biting over his hip. Grantaire is going to be absolutely covered with the evidence of this night. The thought sends a pulse of _want_ straight to Grantaire’s cock and he rolls his hips upward. 

“Okay, okay, let’s talk about security,” Grantaire gasps. Enjolras grins up at him and then dips his tongue into Grantaire’s belly button. “Security sounds great,” Grantaire starts, “like, I know that if I get drunk, I’ll be safe and I won’t get hurt- _fuck_! But then there’s the same problems with security as there is happiness-” Grantaire’s sentence ends with a deep moan because Enjolras has gotten his pants undone and pulled down and now his tongue is swirling over the head of his cock. He seriously can’t keep his thoughts straight while Enjolras’ head is dipped down, painted hair splayed across his stomach, mouth around his very hard cock. 

He takes a breath, closes his eyes and tries again. He fails, “Oh fuck,” he gasps as Enjolras swallows him down. “the problems can be the same with- fuck- with happiness. The idea of perfect security inevitably- oh god Enjolras you need to stop now,” he gasps. “Stop before I ruin the chances of me getting fucked.”

Enjolras pulls his mouth off of Grantaire’s cock and crawls back up his body. “We wouldn’t want that,” he states before leaning in and kissing him deeply. Grantaire falls back under his weight and nibbles at his lip. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t even argue with me anymore.” 

“Fucking hell,” Grantaire gasps. He reaches his hands down to pull at Enjolras’ rainbow shirt, wanting more than anything to just yank it over his head. He wants to see Enjolras’ body, wants it against his own and he definitely wants Enjolras to fuck him until he has no words left. “Strip for me, I want to see you,” he breathes. 

He feels teeth against his earlobe, an action that is very quickly becoming something that Grantaire craves from him but then, Enjolras is gone. Grantaire hears shuffling in the dark and then the light flicks on, revealing his Apollo back over by the door. Enjolras grins at him, mouth stretched too wide to be entirely sober, and lifts his shirt over his head. Grantaire’s mouth goes dry and even if he wanted to, he couldn’t continue his argument. Enjolras is beautiful in an absolute sense. There’s nothing about him that isn’t saturated with beauty. Even while covered in rainbow paint and glitter, Enjolras is ethereal. 

Grantaire sits up to get a better view as Enjolras’ hands reach down to his fly and he starts undoing those too tight jeans. Grantaire reaches forward but Enjolras glares and moves to slap his hands away. “Security,” he reminds.

Grantaire laughs and shakes his head, “absolute security can very easily lead to a complete lack of freedom and oppression. And the population can be miserable, and live these horrible lives, like in _1984_. I don’t want to suffer under a form of Big Brother,” he says as he watches Enjolras peel his pants from his skin. “And I don’t want to live a horrible life,” he admits. Enjolras hooks his hands under the waistband of his underwear and he slowly begins to pull them down. “I choose freedom,” he says finally, watching every single piece of skin as it’s revealed to him. “Because without freedom, we couldn’t be doing this.”

Suddenly, Enjolras’ underwear are gone and he’s back on Grantaire once more. Obviously Grantaire had answered him correctly since the blond is now practically ripping off his clothing and tossing it around the room. Soon, Grantaire is naked too, clothing torn from his body by Enjolras’ questing hands, and there’s skin everywhere, pressing, rubbing, touching... 

Grantaire arches into Enjolras hands, his mouth, gets his legs around him again, wanting to keep him there, _right there_ this time. Enjolras arches his hips, presses down and their cocks rub together sending electric shocks of pleasure all over Grantaire’s body . It’s the best feeling he’s experienced in a very long while and the noise that escapes his throat is a testimony to that. Enjolras does it again and Grantaire’s vision blacks out for a moment. 

He gasps, hips arching to meet the blond’s, eyes closed, chest tight. For a moment, both of Enjolras’ hands are on his hips but then one is gone while the other is surely leaving tiny, fingerprint sized marks over Grantaire’s skin. Soon, the absent hand has returned and it’s reaching down between them. Grantaire grins, spreads his legs in order to give Enjolras full access. In return, Enjolras bites along his jawline and circles his fingers around Grantaire’s entrance. Grantaire arches his hips upward encouragingly and whispers, “fuck, yes,” just as Enjolras presses the first finger inside. 

Grantaire is no stranger to sex, really, and even though it’s been a couple weeks, one finger is really just not going to be enough. “More, come on Apollo, fucking fill me up,” he growls. Before he even finishes the sentence, he feels a second finger joining the first, immediately beginning to scissor inside of him, stretching him out, getting him ready. Grantaire is a mass of movement; Enjolras’ fingers are long, fucking him almost perfectly. Only almost because- _there_. Grantaire cries out so loudly that he’s sure Combeferre can hear him through his ear plugs when Enjolras’ fingers brush over that spot of ecstasy inside of him. He does it again and Grantaire _mewls_ this time. He hardly even notices the third finger, only feels a slight stretch. By this time, he’s begging, insisting that Enjolras stop and start fucking him in earnest. 

Enjolras shakes his head, “I’m free to stretch you for as long as I want,” he insists with a wicked smirk stretched across his lips. Grantaire thinks he’s going to _die_.

“I knew I should have never answered your damn question,” Grantaire replies between gasps. 

“I told you I was going to fuck you until you can’t even argue with me anymore,” Enjolras replies. “it seems I haven’t yet succeeded.”

“I choose freedom,” Grantaire insists. “I know that it means that others have the same freedom but I don’t believe that humans are what Hobbes-” an explosion of expletives escape Grantaire’s mouth as Enjolras presses hard against that wonderful bundle of nerves inside of him. The touch forces his hips to snap up and completely lose his train of thought. He’s so, so hard now that he can’t control himself, can’t concentrate at all. He tries to form a sentence but the movement of Enjolras’ fingers turn it into a series of moans. Grantaire can’t remember the last time he’d been this vocal, can’t remember the last time it had felt this good. 

He’s spreading his legs even wider when Enjolras’ fingers disappear, pulling out of him with a swiftness that he wasn’t expecting. He whines at the loss of them, hips moving to follow his Apollo’s hand. Enjolras presses the hand down on Grantaire’s hip, joining the other in forcing them still. Grantaire is about to complain, about to demand his ass receive more attention but then Enjolras is sliding a condom over his sizeable cock and lining himself up. Grantaire moves so that his legs are once more wrapped around Enjolras at the same time as Enjolras slides in. 

Enjolras doesn’t take it slowly; he just presses in until he bottoms out inside of Grantaire. “Fuck,” Grantaire curses. “Fuck, Enjolras, you feel fucking amazing,” he bites out. The stretch burns but it’s quickly giving way to something else, something that’s purely pleasure and Grantaire doesn’t think that he’s felt this good since his ecstasy ridden raver days and maybe not even then. He closes his eyes, pushes his hips up and begs for Enjolras to start moving. 

It seems that now, finally, Enjolras has lost any and all control that he’d had over himself. He pulls out, almost all of the way and then plows right back into Grantaire. True to his word, he fucks Grantaire hard into the mattress, so hard that Grantaire thinks he’s going to get rug burn from Enjolras’ sheets. He brings his hands up to Enjolras’ hair and tugs his face down, intending on sharing another of those earth shattering kisses. Enjolras stops just as their lips are about to meet. 

“But what if we are exactly what Hobbes thinks we are?” he asks before dropping his lips to Grantaire’s and forcing his tongue in immediately, covering up one of his own moans. 

Grantaire can’t answer him, not now that Enjolras has dropped a hand between them and circled it around his dick. He can’t even think to start a sentence now that Enjolras has shifted their position just slightly enough that every time he presses into Grantaire he’s hitting his prostate, causing Grantaire to see fucking _stars_. Instead of bothering to answer, Grantaire just kisses Enjolras sloppily, arching up into his every thrust until his body just can’t take any more _feeling_ and he’s babbling something completely unintelligible into Enjolras’ mouth. He just needs something, anything, just a bit _more_ and there it is, Enjolras moving to bite his earlobe and he’s spilling across both of their chests, milking Enjolras’ cock inside him with contracting muscles. 

Now it’s Enjolras’ turn to swear with abandon and totally lose control, fucking Grantaire hard until his hips jerk once more, his face taking on a look of absolute bliss, before collapsing onto Grantaire’s willing body. 

After a few moments, Grantaire’s breathing regulates enough that he can actually speak. He says, “fucking goddamn hell Enjolras,” before he needs to take another breath. “If I had known you could fuck like that, I would have followed you home after our first class together.” 

Enjolras rolls off of him lazily and grins in such a completely fucked out way that Grantaire finds himself grinning back. “I don’t think I’ve ever fucked like that before,” he admits. “Something about you just makes me want to make you shut up and if it takes fucking you into the ground well, who am I to refuse?”

Grantaire laughs, low and rich, “I’ll be feeling you for a fucking week.”

“Good,” Enjolras replies. “Next time you want to argue with me, think of tonight and keep your mouth fucking shut.” 

He shakes his head and then Enjolras brushes the curls from his eyes. “No, I’ll think of tonight and argue more, hoping for a repeat performance,” Grantaire admits. “God, that was fantastic.” 

Enjolras leans over and kisses him soundly, draping his body over Grantaire’s and further covering them both in the mess Grantaire had left on their chests. Grantaire gets his fingers into Enjolras’ hair again and just lets himself be kissed. 

Eventually, Enjolras pulls away again in order to stand. He smiles at Grantaire before pulling on a robe and leaving the room. He’s not gone long, only a few seconds, coming back with a damp cloth and running it over Grantaire’s chest, then his own. 

“Are you going to make me leave?” Grantaire asks. It comes out more quietly than he’d expected it to and suddenly he feels completely exposed in a way that has nothing to do with his nudity. 

Thankfully Enjolras shakes his head but he leaves the room again, taking the cloth with him and returns moments later, this time with two large glasses of water. “You can stay tonight,” he says. “I don’t want to be responsible if you pass out in a ditch on your way home. It doesn’t matter whether it’s from drunkenness of sexual exhaustion, I can’t have that weighing on my conscience.”

Grantaire laughs and accepts the glass of water, drinking it down swiftly. He sets the glass down on Enjolras’ bedside table and then pulls some blankets up over himself. Enjolras drains his own glass of water and turns on the bedside lamp. Then he walks over and turns the main light off and strips off his underwear before finally joining Grantaire in the bed. Grantaire watches the line of his arm as he reaches to turn of the lamp and then feels him as he settles down beside him. 

Grantaire isn’t much of a cuddler but after sex like that he craves a slight bit more of a connection. He feels too shy to make such an intimate move though, so he’s glad when Enjolras flops an arm over his chest and kisses his shoulder. He falls asleep with the comforting weight of Enjolras on his chest, feeling lighter than he thinks he has any right to. 

Grantaire wakes the next morning to an empty bed but at least he remembers who it belongs to. He thinks about the night before and grins before climbing out of that bed and pulls on his boxers and tee shirt from the night before. He looks back at the bed and laughs. Enjolras is going to have to change his sheets not because they’d made a mess together (that had remained solely on Grantaire’s chest) but because they’re covered in paint flakes and glitter. Grantaire finds that he is as well, combined with the multitude of bite marks and fingerprints because of Enjolras’ over zealousness. He stretches then opens the door and walks out into the apartment. Enjolras is standing in the kitchen glaring at the coffee maker as if that will make it brew more quickly. 

Grantaire pauses a moment in order to just _look_ at him. He looks incredible in a completely fucked out and sleepy way. Grantaire’s mouth waters at seeing his Apollo stand there in only a pair of boxer briefs and the evidence of what they’d done the night before (collarbones littered with hickeys, fingerprints over his back and hips). Grantaire surveys his handiwork and thinks that he hadn’t thought Enjolras could look hotter than he had when they’d first met but he can and the truth of the matter is staring Grantaire right in the face. He very nearly swoons. Instead Grantaire walks up and settles his hands on Enjolras’ waist. He kisses the spot just under where Enjolras’ messy blond curls taper off, a spot reddened by a love bite, and runs his hands over Enjolras’ chest. The blond turns in his arms and kisses Grantaire deeply. 

“Good morning,” Grantaire murmurs through a smile. It’s not everyday that one wakes up to the kisses of a god. 

“Hi,” Enjolras replies. “Coffee?” 

“I’d rather have more of you,” Grantaire admits. 

Enjolras grins at him wickedly. “Good, because I’ve been thinking about fucking you on the couch all morning. I think I may have even dreamed about it...” Enjolras admits. 

“I wish we’d shared that dream because that would be fucking hot,” Grantaire concedes, cock already responding to the suggestion. 

Enjolras grins at him ferally and then backwards walks him through the living room until he falls back onto the couch. They kiss, more sober this time than they had been the night before but Enjolras is no less possessive. He bites and licks and claims which turns Grantaire on more than he thinks he’s ever been turned on before. It’s not long before Enjolras has Grantaire ready and is taking him for the second time in six hours, this time on his hands and knees. If this is what being friends with his Apollo is going to be like, Grantaire can’t help but wish he’d met him earlier than this year. It’s faster this time, harder if that’s even possible but no less incredible. When Grantaire comes, he swears that the entire world shudders with him. Enjolras pulls out this time, release covering Grantaire’s ass and if that’s not an act of ownership, Grantaire doesn’t know what is. He finds the action odd for someone so obsessed with equality but since he finds Enjolras’ possessiveness incredibly attractive, he’s not going to complain. Instead Grantaire kisses Enjolras’ mouth over and over until he catches his breath, until Enjolras finally pulls away. 

“Coffee should be ready,” he mentions. He climbs off of Grantaire but makes no move to redress himself. Instead he pads to the washroom and calls for Grantaire to join him so that he can clean both of them off. Afterward, the both sip their coffees silently until Grantaire really feels like he should be getting home. He pulls on the clothes he’d worn the day before and pulls a cigarette out of the pack that had been in his back pocket. He feels Enjolras’ eyes on him the entire time.

“Well Apollo,” he says, sliding the cigarette behind his ear. “Thank you for the incredible night and morning, but I really should be going.” 

Enjolras nods, “I have work to do anyway,” he admits. Grantaire isn’t surprised; it seems like there’s always work to be done while school is in session. Enjolras stands, walks over to Grantaire and places a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I’ll see you Tuesday,” he says softly before leaning up to give Grantaire the most delicate kiss they’ve shared so far. 

“I look forward to it,” Grantaire admits before smiling back at him. 

He pulls on his shoes and makes sure he has everything he’d come with before mentioning, “we covered your sheets in glitter, you might want to look into that.” 

Enjolras laughs and nods. Grantaire shoots him one last grin before he’s out the door and on his way home. It’s not until he’s about halfway there that he begins to worry that Marius and his women might not have made it to Marius’ room. He really doesn’t want Eponine’s tits to ruin such an awesome night (and morning).


	6. Fic Abandonment

Hi all,

This has been a long time in coming. I started this fic when I was still in University but have since decided against continuing with it. I am currently involved with other fandoms and do not plan to return to writing this. I apologise to any of you that have been waiting. Despite the fact that I do not plan to write in this verse again, things could potentially change in the future but I don't want to give any one false hope.

Under the advisement of a friend, I will leave this fic up for the time being. 

Thanks to all of you that have read this and kept up with it. I really do appreciate you <3


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